Red Handed
by Lana Archer
Summary: Laurel and Wes are the quiet ones. It'd be in everyone's best interest to stop taking that at face value. Give it a go


**Note:** This is a very short, very unedited one-shot for my girl Katie (PrincessPalmtree). Let's get excited for season two of HTGAWM!

* * *

 **Red-Handed**

" _I thought you did it."_

 _Laurel's hands shook as she stepped away from Rebecca's body. She'd found that to be her only sign of weakness – the shaking. On the surface she supposed she looked mildly surprised at the turn of events. But, on the inside her heart was well on its way to drilling a hole right through her. Killing Rebecca hadn't been the plan; but then again, everything that had happened since Sam's death had been a whirlwind._

 _First came Michaela's crying. Then Connor's twisted laughter. Then Asher's loud voice from outside. But Laurel had stayed quiet, controlled. And Wes had executed the killing blow with surprising finesse. It was all disjointed and terrifying but she and Wes had kept it together, even then. Their plan had changed, that's all. And now it had again._

When she knocked on his apartment door she didn't know what to expect. When he opened it, her greeting was swallowed by her loud intake of breath. He was shirtless. Her gaze slid up his torso before locking in on his dark eyes.

"…Can I come in?" He didn't answer, just stepped aside and widened the entryway. She pressed her lips together and ducked her head as she made her way inside; not knowing how exactly she was going to break the news to him. He could say what he wanted but he'd grown to care about Rebecca in an odd way; perhaps the way scientists are fascinated by a new experiment. Those feelings of his, if there were even any left, were about to be shattered.

"What is it?" He finally asked as she spun around to watch as he pulled on a button-up, his face expressionless as he waited for her response. Watching his fingers slip each button in place helped her arrange her thoughts. "…Laurel?"

"I killed Rebecca." She said, her eyebrows knitting together as she looked down at her gloved hands. "And I left her body in Annalise's basement."

"You did _what_?" He yelled before he could help himself, the last two buttons on his shirt forgotten. Wes closed the space between them so quickly that she almost lost her footing. His hands grabbed at her arms and held her in place. "Why would you do that?" He demanded. For a moment she panicked, having him in close proximity never ended well, and she didn't know how many heart attacks she could survive in one day.

"She was a loose end." Laurel reasoned, "We all knew that."

"That doesn't explain why you left her in the _basement_. In _Annalise's_ basement."

"I didn't have a _choice_!" Her voice rose in tandem with his. "Would the living room have been better?" She snapped, "I didn't exactly have time to roll out a fresh carpet." Laurel tried to pull out of his grip but it only made him hold onto her more, a low growl hummed through him at her pointed words.

"You're going to get us _killed_." He hissed angrily and she glared up at him the way she always did. They'd spent months skirting around each other; playing their respective parts in this convoluted sham. It was easily to fall into the roles they'd been assigned. All they had to do, really, was shut up and let everyone else's presumptions work in their favour. She knew they were toeing a fine line, but instinct had a way of overriding your software and making you do things that perhaps, you wouldn't normally do.

Like strangle a girl and drag her body down into your bosses' basement and leave it there to rot. Or, knowing Frank, she was reduced to ash by now. You know, normal Tuesday stuff. Laurel's blue eyes widened as she watched his demeanour shift. She didn't know how he did it; _pretended_ with everyone else. While she was instinctually soft-spoken, Wes had just about reconstructed his personality around everyone else. When it was just them his voice was gruffer, more commanding. He even carried himself differently. His eyes roamed her face like he was waiting for her to crack – she didn't. He'd come to rely on that. Their plan had started off so simply; out the school's sexual predator Sam Keeting and be done with it. Everything that had come after that had been unexpected, but survivable. Lila hadn't been the only one. And covering up murders seemed to be Annalise's forte.

Wes studied her face and shifted on his feet, his hands finally loosening in their grip.

"Rebecca was never going to let it go," Laurel reasoned, "and Sam's already dead, I don't even know what we're still –"

"After what he did to my mother all those years ago," Wes interrupted her, "Death wasn't even close to justice." Laurel bit her lip with a slow nod, she knew better than to delve into _that_ right now. "How do you know they won't figure out who did it?"

"I covered my tracks." Laurel said easily, stepping further into his space, leaving barely a centimetre between them. "It's a lot easier to get the job done solo, that's for sure." His brow rose.

"That so?"

"Well considering I'm not singing Christmas carols or crying about a ring in the woods, I'd say yes, it is very much so." Wes' hands slipped over her clothes and up her arms, trailing down her back and coming to rest at her waist.

"Aren't you hot?" He asked, noticing the flush in her cheeks, "How many layers are you in right now?" Without asking permission he reached for the buttons on her overcoat and plucked them open. Her eyes stayed on his face as he busied himself with the buttons on the cardigan she had on underneath. Her gloves fell to the floor as well. Soon, the only thing covering her upper body was his hands and her bra. Curious fingers traced aimless patterns over her shoulders and arms, fingertips digging into the curve of her waist. "Were you scared?" He asked as he tugged her close, his mouth seconds from hers.

"Only after." She admitted, "I don't even remember any of it, really." He nodded in understanding, he'd been there.

"I bet your hands were shaking." His dimples lit up his face as he reached down and lifted her up until her legs wrapped around his waist and they were nose to nose.

"I thought you'd be mad," She breathed against his lips, momentarily distracting them both as he neared his bed. "I mean, I know you felt something for her."

"Maybe." He laid her down and crawled on top of her. "Maybe not." Laurel's fingers traced his jawline, before tugging his face to hers. The kiss was hard and fast, both of them had this clock running in the back of their heads. As far as they were both concerned they'd long ago run out of time. Wes because he'd never really stood a chance after his mother's death, and Laurel, well, because her thirst for adventure and her want to always do the right thing had finally gotten the better of her. It had gotten her knee-deep in the kind of shit that kept people up at night.

So they tired themselves out; with the lies, the secrets and the stolen kisses. Arching her back so that her body was pressed chest to chest with his, Laurel sighed as he trailed kissed down her neck. Her breathing hitched as he ground the bottom half of his body into hers. That familiar rhythm with him was easy to follow, so she did. She moved her hands between them and undid the remaining buttons on his shirt, yanking it down his shoulders. He tossed it aside easily, his arms then focused on leading her legs higher up his narrow waist. As his tongue curled into her mouth, her nails raked patterns across his back.

Just as the tempo increased a shrill trilling sound broke them apart.

"Don't give me that look," he scolded her as he reached over to grab his cell phone. "You're the reason she's calling in the first place." Laurel didn't respond, just tightened her legs around his waist and trailed a hand down his stomach. His eyes followed her fingers before snapping up to her face as he pressed answer. "Hello?" His voice was so soft, so unlike him, so shy. "Yes, I'll be there as soon as I can." He hung up.

"What did she say?" Laurel wondered, knowing it'd been Annalise calling.

"Said that we needed to talk." He tossed his phone aside and put his weight back on her. Laurel smirked.

"I think she has a _thing_ for you, you know?" She told him.

"I know," Wes said easily, "Makes it easier for me to manipulate her." A shrug. "Now, where we?" Laurel's hands grabbed his ass and pulled him closer as he slanted his mouth over hers. The same hands that had squeezed the literal life out of Rebecca not so long ago. And neither of them worried, or would ever worry.

Because when you work with someone like Annalise?

You always get away with murder.


End file.
